


you can call me

by serendipitee, susurruses (subsequence)



Category: GOT7
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Park Jinyoung (GOT7), Daddy Kink, First Time, Kink Discovery, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Spanking, Top Jackson, idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22222345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee/pseuds/serendipitee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/subsequence/pseuds/susurruses
Summary: Jackson's heard the word in this context before. The fans like to scream it at Jaebeom, after all, but he’s never thought of applying it to himself.
Relationships: Park Jinyoung/Jackson Wang
Comments: 25
Kudos: 341





	you can call me

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is just us exposing ourselves and we will not apologize

It starts when Jackson goes white blond.

It’s not that the fans weren’t nice before. It’s not that Jinyoung wasn’t nice before, either. But feeling Jinyoung’s arm warm around his shoulder while he says, “You were handsome before, but after cutting your hair you’re even more handsome,” while comments full of praise fly by faster than he can read them—it lights a fire that swells in Jackson’s chest and tingles all the way down to his fingertips.

Maybe that’s what primes him to react how he does when he sees the comment.

_ldfjldf omg jackson u look DADDY AF_

The capital letters in English draw his eye. They seem to hang suspended on the screen for longer than any of the other comments, and they stay etched into his mind after the comment has passed, after the live is over and he’s back at the dorm scrolling through social media on his phone in bed.

He’s heard the word in this context before. The fans like to scream it at Jaebeom, after all, but he’s never thought of applying it to himself.

He forms his lips around the word, silent in the darkness. It conveys something strong and masculine. In charge.

He lets it sit on his tongue and falls asleep savoring the taste of it.

* * *

They don’t really talk about it before they fall into it, and it doesn’t feel like they have to afterward, either. That’s just the way they are—Jackson and Jinyoung, in rhythm without trying. They can use their words for what they want to say, but when words fall short, when needs swell too big for bodies to contain and spill out in grabbing hands and demanding mouths—

They don’t talk about this. They don’t talk about the way Jackson drives what they do, how his every touch feels like a command and how Jinyoung melts beneath it. They don’t talk about the quiet transformation that happens behind locked bedroom doors, something simmering just beneath their skin reaching out for each other.

“Please,” Jinyoung will gasp, grabbing at Jackson’s biceps and thighs straining as he holds back from bucking up into Jackson’s hand. That’s all that makes it past his lips—_please, Jackson, fuck,_ breathless little expletives that fall short of anything that his body isn’t already saying.

“I know.” Jackson presses the words into the sweat-slick skin of Jinyoung’s neck and slows his hand on his cock just to hear his next breath drag in on a dry sob. “I know, Jinyoungie.”

Jackson knows how to listen to Jinyoung’s body. So, maybe, in a way, they do talk about it after all.

* * *

Jackson doesn’t quite put it all together until he hears the word out of Jinyoung’s mouth.

Jaebeom’s fucked off to the studio and Mark’s holed himself up in a PC room to play video games somewhere, so it’s just the two of them with the kids for the day. Warm familiarity washes over him as he watches Jinyoung tug Bambam in by the wrist and scold him for nearly destroying Youngjae’s figurines by careening around the living room.

“You’re not the boss of me,” Bambam whines. He’s wriggling in Jinyoung’s hold, but he doesn’t seem like he’s really fighting it when Jinyoung squeezes him possessively to his side, squashed in loving arms.

“I’m your mom,” he reminds Bambam in English. He’s heard it before, but Jackson still snorts at the image of Jinyoung, who regularly curses the kids out and threatens them with violence, as a motherly figure.

“Jackson hyung!” Bambam appeals, reaching out to him. “Save me, he’s being _gross_ again.”

“He’s not going to save you,” Jinyoung says before Jackson can reply. “Your dad’s on my side.”

Dizziness rushes through Jackson’s head faster than he can process, and Jinyoung and Bambam’s continued bickering fades behind the roar in Jackson’s ear.

_Oh,_ he thinks, digging his fingertips into his thighs. _Oh._

“Jackson?”

The sweet lilt in Jinyoung’s voice drags him back into the moment. “Huh?” he asks intelligently.

“I said, you’re behind me,” Jinyoung says with a playful gleam in his eye. “Right, daddy?”

Jackson swallows. Spreads his thighs. “Yeah.”

* * *

It calls for some looking into.

Most of the videos he finds don’t feel too different from any other video—a little plasticky, a little loud, a little far for Jackson to find sexy when his dick isn’t in his hand already.

But some of it sticks. Little phrases that drip with praise and the wide, moony-eyed response to them. The sweet surrender that reminds him so much of Jinyoung’s body melting beneath his hands. The nurturing, assertive touch that already slots in just right with how he handles Jinyoung. The take and the give.

Part of him wants to bring it up with Jinyoung when they aren’t already half-naked—but they don’t bring up any of this outside the bedroom anyway. It feels stiff and formal in a way that doesn’t fit the two of them. The natural, implicit ease of their relationship is one of the reasons they’re so close, after all.

It comes up in a way that’s unplanned, as easy as falling asleep. It fits them.

“Please,” Jinyoung is gasping, as sweet as always. The same words as always in that same tone, the same expression with his brow furrowed and fat shining lips split open almost like he’s in pain.

But it isn’t all exactly the same, Jackson thinks as he sinks his two fingers deeper into wet, clenching heat. He curls them inside just to watch Jinyoung shudder. This is new—the clutch of Jinyoung squeezing down around his fingers, swallowing them up as eagerly as his mouth has taken Jackson’s cock before.

Jackson nuzzles into the joint of Jinyoung’s thigh and hip, lips catching and dragging on the delicate skin. He smells musky here, lightly sweaty and earthy with just the faintest trace of the body wash he steals from Jackson. The lube squelches as Jackson thrusts inside of him deep and even. He has the perfect angle to watch how Jinyoung’s rim stretches pink and shining around him.

Even though he hasn’t gotten his own cock out of his boxers yet, Jackson feels lightheaded just taking in the sight before him. His thoughts feel like they’re tripping over each other in his brain, every function preoccupied with seeing and tasting and pleasing Jinyoung.

Maybe that’s why the words slip out without him even realizing it. They spill out unbidden, untangling the knot he’s been picking at for weeks now.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, Jinyoungie,” he’s been whispering, the words tumbling out of his lips all breathless and hot. “Feel so good around my fingers, so tight, fuck, you’re such a _good boy—_”

He hardly recognizes his own voice, dragging low and rough out of his throat so it rumbles against the delicate skin of Jinyoung’s inner thigh.

Before he can freeze, before the panic over what he’s said hits, he feels Jinyoung suddenly squeeze tight around his fingers. Whimpers leak out between Jinyoung’s clenched teeth and his eyes screw shut as his untouched cock jerks against his belly. Come spurts up his abs in hot, wet strokes.

Jackson can’t stop himself from leaning forward and lapping it up, bitter and thick on his tongue. He cleans Jinyoung up with eager strokes of his tongue, fingers still buried inside so he can feel the clench whenever he lets his lips rub against Jinyoung’s oversensitive cock.

“Fuck,” Jinyoung mewls as he squirms. “Shit, I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry—”

“No.” Jackson shifts up the bed, two fingers still anchored between Jinyoung’s legs as his mouth dips in to kiss him, tongues gliding filthy wet with come and drool. “Don’t be sorry,” he whispers, the words falling against Jinyoung’s lips still gasping for breath. “You’re so good, Jinyoungie, so fuckin’ perfect for me.”

A fresh shiver racks Jinyoung’s body and his thighs come up to squeeze around Jackson’s hips. “Ahhh—_fuck—_” He pushes at Jackson’s shoulders with trembling, orgasm-drunk hands until he rolls off him onto his back.

He’s still panting as he slides down between Jackson’s legs, mouth sloppy and open as he presses haphazard kisses all along his hips and thighs. “Wanna—wanna be good for you, wanna make you come—”

As good as Jinyoung’s mouth feels when it sinks messily down over his cock, it’s that eagerness, that desperation that makes Jackson’s head spin.

Well, he thinks in the last moments he’s capable of stringing a coherent thought together. That takes care of that.

* * *

The first sign Jackson gets is Jinyoung holding him back from a group outing and saying, “We should talk,” without any twinkle in his eye that makes it clear he doesn’t really mean _talk._

“Is something wrong?” Jackson asks nervously as Jinyoung herds him into his little shoebox closet of a room and shifts the partition closed behind him. “It’s just, we don’t usually—”

“Talk?” Jinyoung sits primly on the edge of his bed, leaving a respectable few inches between them like the good boy he was raised to be. “I just figured we should clear up some things instead of bringing them up without warning in the middle of something.”

“In the middle of something,” Jackson repeats, a grin starting to spread across his face. “You mean during sex.”

Jinyoung presses his lips together and averts his eyes in that way he always does when he’s trying not to smile with Jackson. “Maybe.”

“So what do you want to bring up before sex rather than during?” Jackson pulls his knees up so he can rest his cheek against them. “Protection? A different brand of lube? Chains and whips?”

Jinyoung honks out a laugh before he claps a hand over his mouth, eyes whiskering with amusement. “Are you saying that’s what _you_ want to talk about?”

“I’m not saying anything,” Jackson says, all faux earnest. “I’m just trying to make this easier for you. You know, it’s my job as your elder—”

“We were born in the same year, don’t act like Jaebeom hyung on me—”

“—to provide for and take care of you,” Jackson finishes as if he hadn’t been interrupted.

Jinyoung cocks his head thoughtfully, eyes sharp. “Is that what you want?”

Jackson laughs. “What do you mean?”

“To take care of me,” Jinyoung clarifies. His cheeks are pink, but he holds Jackson’s gaze. “During sex, I mean. To be in control.”

Jackson’s heel slips off the edge of the mattress and thuds against the floor. He should probably be sorry to the downstairs neighbors, but if Jinyoung keeps this up, it probably won’t be the worst noise he has to apologize for tonight.

“You—what?” Jackson croaks.

Jinyoung chews at his lip. “Last time we were—you know,” he starts, “you said something.”

“I say a lot of things when we’re having sex,” Jackson replies. “You kind of make me forget myself. You’re gonna have to clarify.”

Jinyoung’s blush looks a little more pleased now, like he’s preening. “You said—you called me _good boy._”

Just hearing the words again makes Jackson’s stomach swoop, some giddy combination of nerves and excitement. Anticipation. He hadn’t gotten as far as thinking of how to bring this up to Jinyoung, but here he is with the opportunity dropped in his lap. He isn’t about to be ungrateful. “I was just telling the truth.”

“But you want—you want me to be good. In bed. For you.” Jinyoung treads through it lightly, eyes down and tracing the lines on his bedspread like he’s trying to figure out the right words to say. He looks up through the dark fan of his eyelashes, coquettish, and Jackson’s dick reminds him in quick order why exactly they’re so bad at having productive conversations.

Jackson’s breath rushes out of him in a gust. “Yeah,” he manages. “I mean, if you want.”

Jinyoung tucks his knees up under himself, hands folded on top, sweet and kittenish. “When have I ever not been good?”

Jackson huffs out a laugh and his hand falls on top of Jinyoung’s, thumb tracing where his basketball shorts don’t quite reach his knee. “You call this being good?”

He can hear Jinyoung’s breath catch in his throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t play dumb, Jinyoungie.” He can feel Jinyoung’s hands clench into fists under his. “You’re too smart for that.”

Jinyoung sways closer, as if he’s drawn to Jackson by something magnetic. “Maybe you just need to—guide me.” The words are halting, quiet and shyer than the usual assurance he speaks with.

Jackson swallows hard. “Yeah—yeah, I can do that.”

“So.” Jinyoung leans in. One of his hands comes to rest on Jackson’s knee. “Guide me, then.”

“Well.” Jackson stalls, trying to get his brain to kick into gear with how overloaded it feels. He pats his lap. “Why don’t you come sit here?”

“Do I tell you what I want for Christmas?” Jinyoung says cheekily even as he does what he’s told and clambers quick over Jackson’s thighs.

Before he can overthink it, he slaps Jinyoung’s ass lightly and then squeezes it. “Don’t be a brat.”

“I thought you said I was good?” Jinyoung laughs breathlessly, wriggling in Jackson’s lap.

“I’ll call you good when you behave like it,” Jackson replies. He drags Jinyoung up higher on his lap, the generous plushness of his ass like heaven against Jackson’s cock.

Jinyoung hums, all self-satisfied. “And what about me? Should I call you something special?”

Jackson’s fingertips dig into Jinyoung’s cheeks, making him bite his lips.

“Like what?” Jackson tries to keep his voice nonchalant even as his pulse thunders in his ears.

Jinyoung sways slightly on his knees and wraps his arms loosely around Jackson’s neck. “Like...hyung?”

Jackson can’t stop himself from laughing at that, and it draws a pout from Jinyoung.

“Don’t laugh at me!” Jinyoung whines.

“Is that special?” Jackson teases. “Isn’t that just reality?”

Jinyoung glares down at him. “You know it’s not.”

Jackson hums thoughtfully. “I suppose if you say so.”

“I’m the Korean one,” Jinyoung says stubbornly. “I would know.”

“If you say so,” Jackson repeats in a sing-song.

“I do,” Jinyoung insists, lower lip pushing out so far that his chin dimples. “Do you want me to call you hyung or not?”

“I mean, if that’s what you want,” Jackson hedges.

“What do _you_ want?” Jinyoung demands. “Stop stalling, you big baby.”

Something in his challenging, annoyed tone flips a switch in Jackson’s head. The anxious, pricking doubt of self-revelation suddenly seems way less important than melting Jinyoung’s brattiness down into the squirming, needy essence of him. He’s being a _bad_ boy.

When he spanks him this time, it’s firm and sharp and comes down against Jinyoung’s ass with a crack that spears through the quiet.

Jinyoung jerks in his lap and yelps in pain. “Ow!”

“Be nice,” Jackson warns, “or I’ll do it again.”

“You’re worse than my mom,” Jinyoung grumbles. “Or even my—” A realization dawns on Jinyoung’s dusted-pink face, eyes and mouth going round. “—oh.”

“Oh,” Jackson echoes, trying to keep his tone light even as Jinyoung moves around in minute discomfort, ass surely stinging from his slap.

“So...dad?” Jinyoung tries.

“Daddy,” Jackson replies. “I don’t know, in English it’s just...different, I guess.”

“Daddy,” Jinyoung repeats after him, voice tentative around the new, foreign word. He sounds small and sweet and Jackson’s cock jerks against his ass. “Oh. Oh, okay.” He turns his hips in a deliberate little circle, biting his lip on a small smile. “So, does that make me...baby?”

Jackson falls into his space, mouthing at the scurry of his pulse at his neck. “What do you think, baby?”

Jinyoung inhales a funny little sound through his nose. “I—yeah.”

“Yeah?” Jackson repeats. Just to be sure. He scrapes his teeth against a tendon, and Jinyoung gasps, caught. “You like it? Baby?” Each repetition of the word, each time it passes his lips, each shiver of tension that runs through Jinyoung’s body, only makes him want to say it more.

“Yes, daddy.”

Jackson lets one hand slide up the small of Jinyoung’s back, feeling how narrow his waist is. “Say it again.”

Jinyoung arches into his touch. “Yes, daddy.” He sounds breathless himself, like his heart is in his throat and making his voice go thin and sweet.

Jackson cages the back of his neck in a tight hand, using his grip like on a kitten’s scruff to guide Jinyoung down, panting and pliant, into a kiss and then to lie on his back, spread out against the sheets.

Jinyoung follows, malleable beneath Jackson’s hands as he strokes Jinyoung’s thighs, kisses his nipples, fingers him open tender and thorough. Each half-moan of Jackson’s name or new title reminds him of his responsibility.

By the time Jinyoung’s fluttering hand can find purchase gripping around Jackson’s wrist, his cock is weeping against his trembling stomach. “W-wait, wait. Jackson, stop.”

Jackson stops the relentless dig of his fingers immediately, his eyes darting up to Jinyoung’s face to check on him. “Yeah, baby?”

“You’re getting me close already,” Jinyoung says, pink all the way to the tips of his ears and down his chest.

“Isn’t that the point?” Jackson grins, feeling feral as he curls his fingers inside Jinyoung just to watch his eyes roll back.

“_Nnnhh—_” Jinyoung arches and his thighs jerk apart. “Not yet, I—I want—”

Jackson mouths up the inside of Jinyoung’s thigh, savoring how he can feel the muscles jumping and tensing under his lips. “Don’t you want to come?”

“Yes, but no—I mean, not yet,” Jinyoung babbles. “I want—I want you to fuck me, daddy, please—”

Jackson’s hips kick down against the mattress, cock throbbing at the thought alone. “Are you sure?”

Jinyoung covers his eyes with his forearm, pink bloom of his mouth and cheeks peeking out vibrant from beneath despite the attempt at hiding. “Please don’t make me beg.”

Jackson can’t help the mean curl of his smile. “But you’re so good at it, baby.” He leans down between Jinyoung’s thighs once more, noses soft and bites hard at the purple petal of a bruise he had already left. “What do you want?”

“Please, daddy,” Jinyoung whimpers. “Please fuck me.”

Part of Jackson wants to draw it out more, wants to make him beg until there are tears in those pretty doe eyes—but this has already been so much for him to handle, the arousal in his gut a constant barrage of molten waves that leave his cock aching to be buried inside tight heat.

He holds one of Jinyoung’s hands as he guides himself to his entrance, the slick head of his cock sliding almost teasingly against Jinyoung’s wet rim. He goes slow and gentle, but it still punches a sound out of Jinyoung when the tip finally pushes past the tight ring of muscle and pops in.

“Oh,” Jinyoung gasps, eyes wide and unseeing as his mouth works wordlessly. “Oh, it’s—”

“You okay, baby?” Jackson can hear the tremor in his voice as he holds back. Jinyoung is so warm and soft and lovely, in his arms and on his cock, and it makes his blood sing with the instinct to take and take and take.

“Oh, god,” Jinyoung says, reedy, chest hitching like being filled up is pushing the air out of his lungs. “Seun, it’s—so much, fuck—”

“Too much?” Jackson asks, pushing Jinyoung’s sweaty bangs off his forehead.

Jinyoung shakes his head vigorously. “No, it’s just—big.” He throws his head back into the pillow, throat going long. “So big.”

Jackson hangs his head and hisses a breath in through his teeth, trying not to come just at the sound of Jinyoung praising his cock as he struggles to take it. “God, Jinyoung. You’re being so good for daddy, baby.”

Jinyoung mewls, legs spreading further. He takes a deep, gasping breath. “Please—more?”

“Oh, baby,” Jackson groans, teeth grinding. He grabs Jinyoung’s hip, angling him so he can push in deeper. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Jackson’s not a virgin, but this is the first time he’s ever fucked anyone like this. Jinyoung feels like he’s sucking his cock in, like his body is hungry to be filled, and Jackson wants nothing more than to pound into him and pump him full of come. He can already feel the edges of his control fraying—but by the way Jinyoung is squirming and hiccuping, he isn’t the only one.

As he draws back the first time to start fucking Jinyoung properly, he watches how Jinyoung feels the thrust through his entire body. His eyes go out of focus, his mouth falls open, and the muscles in his abdomen tense and jump.

“You like that?” Jackson asks. He can tell just from seeing Jinyoung’s reactions, but he wants it, _needs_ to hear it from his lovely lips.

“Yes,” Jinyoung moans, loud and nasal. “F-feels so go-od.”

“Is daddy taking good care of baby?” He takes Jinyoung’s cock, velvety and stiff, in his hand and it draws a squeal out of him.

Jinyoung’s knees squeeze tight around Jackson’s ribs. “Yes, daddy, yes, it’s so—so good—I’m so—”

“Are you close already, Jinyoungie?” Jackson pumps his hips, everything in his brain narrowing down to the animalistic urge to break Jinyoung down and stuff him full. “Just from daddy’s fat cock filling you up?”

Jinyoung mewls and his fingertips scrabble at Jackson’s sweat-slick back desperately. “Oh god oh god oh _fuck,_ daddy—”

Jackson lets go of Jinyoung’s length to balance himself properly and fuck into Jinyoung harder and faster, until Jinyoung’s practically bouncing on his cock, every breath past his lips a jagged moan. Precome smears wet and messy across their abs and it only drives Jackson to push further, to try to fuck more sweet noises out of him with each thrust.

Jinyoung is almost sobbing now, overwhelmed, and then—one breath and a blink and thick, heavy tears are running out of the corners of his eyes, down his temples and into his dark hair; another breath and he’s wheezing, choking on how _much_ it all is, on the drool wetting his plush lips and the corners of his mouth; another and Jackson can feel his cute cock jerking between their bodies, come shooting hot and wet between them, his body tightening like a vise in shivering pulses around Jackson’s cock.

Dizziness washes over Jackson, the pleasure in his gut suddenly winding taut until it’s about to burst. He goes to pull out on instinct, all his past experiences telling him it’s common courtesy when he’s fucking someone raw—

But Jinyoung’s legs are suddenly squeezing so tight around him that they’re trembling with the effort so soon after his orgasm. “No,” he gasps. “Please, I need you to—inside—”

“Fuck, Jinyoungie,” Jackson groans, trying to lift himself enough that he can look down into Jinyoung’s face. Dewy with sweat and flushed entirely pink, he looks like he’d melt in Jackson’s mouth, sweet and soft, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Are you sure?”

Jinyoung yanks him back down, kissing messily at his jaw and neck. “Yes,” he pleads. “I need it, daddy daddy _daddy_—”

And that’s all it takes for Jackson to tumble. He buries his face in Jinyoung’s throat as he comes, mouth open and gasping for air, inhaling him and surrounded by him and steadily filling him, high on the cresting wave of intimacy. The way Jinyoung clings to him, the trust he’s shown him, the openness of his body and mind and heart for Jackson—all of it coalesces into something burning hot and bright inside him that bursts and sends sparks zipping across his skin as he presses himself as deeply into Jinyoung as he possibly can, inseparable.

They’re hesitant to part afterward, sticking together even though they’re sweaty and overheating and too sensitive to the touch. When they do move, it’s a tiny shift into the mattress and the comfort of each other’s arms.

Jackson guides Jinyoung’s head to rest against his shoulder, stroking his hair gently. “That was...wow.”

“It was something,” Jinyoung mumbles as he turns his face into Jackson’s neck.

A grin breaks across Jackson’s face. “You were really—”

“Shut _up,_” Jinyoung groans, smacking Jackson’s chest lightly.

“Aw, don’t be that way, _baby,_” Jackson teases, squeezing Jinyoung tight to his side so he can’t do anything but wriggle and slap and whine.

“I do this for you and _this_ is how you treat me?” Jinyoung grumbles.

Jackson’s heart skips a beat at the reminder of what Jinyoung has done for him, at the way he’d read Jackson’s needs and reached out to him and let all of this happen. “You did like it too though, right?”

Jinyoung lifts his head to fix him with a narrow-eyed glare. “What do you think?”

“Just checking.” Jackson lifts his hands. “I mean, you seemed pretty _into it,_ but I figured—”

Jinyoung huffs, hides his face back in Jackson’s neck, and mutters something that sounds distinctly like the word ‘embarrassing’.

Once Jackson’s worked the giggles out of his system, he says softly, “Hey, Jinyoung?”

“What?” Jinyoung’s voice is muffled against Jackson’s skin, his hot breath strangely comforting.

Jackson licks his lips. “Thank you. For trying this with me. And for talking with me about it and just—everything. Thank you.”

Jinyoung is silent for a moment, almost long enough that Jackson questions if he’s said the wrong thing. Finally, though, he says, “You make it easy to want to try things with you.”

As if everything today hadn’t already done a number on Jackson’s heart, that alone is enough to make it thud painfully hard in his chest. Jinyoung can almost definitely hear it, but Jackson doesn’t mind. In fact, he thinks he rather likes the idea of every part of his body speaking to Jinyoung and telling him what he feels through his entire being.

He brushes a kiss against Jinyoung’s forehead, smiling into the surprised little noise he makes.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to mel on [twitter](http://twitter.com/sunnyseunie)!


End file.
